


Scars

by Phoenixontherise



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Boys In Love, Fluff, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hope, Love, M/M, Nightmares, Short & Sweet, Sleeptalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-02-01 01:45:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12694485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenixontherise/pseuds/Phoenixontherise
Summary: In which Harry talks in his sleep





	Scars

Draco sat on the cold stone floor of his dormitory, reading the newest edition of _Peculiar Potions_. The magazine held a particularly interesting article debating the usefulness of the _Amiable Lovers_ potion. One wizard professor argued that it was a wonderful opportunity to heal marriages and prevent divorces and the awful, time consuming business of splitting a family’s house and their belongings into two even parts, which was customary in the wizarding world. _That_ would never happen in the pureblood community, Draco thought to himself and huffed. He couldn’t fathom why people united if they didn’t intend to stay together, marriage or unity was for life. 

 

He closed his eyes and rested his head against the bedside table, letting his mind drift to trivial things. A series of uneventful childhood memories went through his mind; playing in the beautiful garden, his mother and father dancing in the study, swordfights with his friends in the halls. A ghost of a smile touched his face, it had been a long time since he had allowed himself to remember the days where they had been happy and Draco still had his glorious innocence. 

A soft snore next to him reminded Draco that he wasn’t alone. On the bed buried under an oversized quilt his mother had made him for Christmas, was Harry. He had dragged himself in on tired feet, after a long night of studying for the OWL’s. 

Draco admired how hard Harry had worked, he had practically lived in the library, poring over a mountain of books stacked up in front of him, not a subject forgotten or deemed too irrelevant to brush up on. Draco had studied with him, but being ahead in most classes gave him more time to do other things.

Harry had kept reading and taking notes long after Draco left and he outlasted Hermione who had called it a night long before Harry did. 

Harry had stumbled into his room mid-morning and upon seeing the dark rings around his eyes, Draco had ordered him to bed and under no circumstance was he allowed to leave until he had gotten a good 8 hours of sleep. Harry had tried to protest, but a series of yawns had killed it and he climbed to bed surrendering.

Draco threw the magazine to the side and picked up _Quidditch Today_ to read a fascinating article on broom upgrades, when he heard a low rumble beside him.

”No…”

Draco stood and looked around, confused. Where had the noise come from? He went to the door and checked but there was no one outside, and he couldn’t hear any chatter from the common room. He walked back in and closed the door behind him. 

”No, not the…” the voice spoke again.

Draco looked bewildered at the bundle on his bed. Was it… It must have been _Harry_ then. He stepped closer to the bed, careful not to make any noise. All he could see was a black mop of hair sticking up from the quilt. Draco pulled it down a bit to free Harry’s face. He looked peaceful but a slight frown on his lips and a crease between his eyes told a different story; he was having a bad dream. Draco sighed. Harry had never mentioned that he still had nightmares. Draco was no stranger to horrifying dreams after the war, but talking to Harry about them had helped. He only wished Harry would have let him return the favour. 

He climbed onto the bed as careful as he could and wrapped an arm around Harry. A whimper escaped Harry’s lips, his breathing was unsteady and rapid as though he was running a sprint. 

”What is haunting you, Harry” he whispered. 

”No… Not the cupboard!” Draco stared wide-eyed at Harry, he grabbed Harrys shoulder and shook him, desperate to wake him up. “Harry..” he said, cupping his face, ”wake up, it’s just a dream”. Harry didn’t respond, his breathing still rapid. 

”No..”

Draco began to panic, Harry seemed lost in his subconscious. He leaned in, rested his forehead against Harry’s. ”Wake up, Harry, come back to me” he whispered, his voice restrained, not allowing the panic to seep through. He whispered it again and again, as if he were chanting. 

Harrys breath slowed down and his body began to relax, relieved Draco kissed him, quieting the string of pained words spilling his lips. When he broke the kiss, Harry’s eyes flew open. 

“Draco..?”

“You had a nightmare” he said. “You’re in my bed at Hogwarts” He clarified upon seeing Harry’s confused look. 

“Oh..” Harry sat up and rubbed his eyes. 

“You were talking in your sleep” Draco reached for Harry, he was visibly upset. 

“You… mentioned a closet” Draco tried gently, his hand rested on Harrys shoulder. 

“I did?” Harry turned to look at him, he looked different without his glassed, vulnerable.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you had nightmares after the war?” Draco took Harry’s hand and circled his thumb on his wrist in a soothing manner. 

 

Harry shook his head, how was he supposed to tell Draco about the Dursleys? How could he make him understand how Harry’s life had been before he had come to Hogwarts? And why it still plagued him long after he had made peace with the war?  
But when they had gotten together, they had promised eachother never to keep secrets from one another and always to talk out any disagreements. It had been the only way that they could move forward as a couple and heal the past. 

Harry leaned in to kiss Draco, who met him halfway. The kiss was soft, lingering and full of promises. Afterwards they lied down on the bed, and when Harry began his story from the very beginning, Draco held him close. Whenever Harry came to a particularly difficult part of the story, Draco showered him with small kisses; on his shoulder, his arm, his neck, his cheek and forehead.  
But he didn’t let go. Not until long after the story was finished and they had to leave for dinner, but even then Draco’s hand never let go of Harry’s.

Healing after the war had been difficult for all of them, especially for the Boy who carried too much. 

 

   


End file.
